On and off for the past few weeks, I haven’t felt well. Mostly nausea. I attributed it to me feeling off in general, but I guess it’s finally catching up to me and I’m full-blown sick now. Yay me. I fell asleep after Scott left me and when I wake up, he’s climbing into bed.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Feel any better?”
“A little, I guess.”
“Up for some talking?” he asks as he pulls me into his arms.
“Try me.” I’ll just tell him to shut up if it turns out I’m not.
“Did you yell at the girls today?”
Guilt overwhelms me. “Yeah, I snapped at them. I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t feeling all that great and I had a headache, and next thing I know, I’m yelling at them.” I was so ashamed of myself, I never said I was sorry. “What’s wrong with me, Scott?”
“Nothing. Just an off week.”
I scoff at that. It’s been more than a week.
“Do you think it’s maybe because you miss working?”
“I don’t know. It was fun doing those things for Lizzy. I was thinking about maybe asking her if she wanted me to help her. What do you think?”
When he laughs, I feel unsure of myself for a moment. But then, he says, “That sounds like you’re asking me for permission.” The nightlight in our room, which is there in case the girls wander in, is bright enough that I can see the amusement in his eyes. “You really are sick, aren’t you?”
I slap his shoulder. “Don’t fool yourself. I’m only asking because that’s what wives are supposed to do. Ask their husbands for their opinions about potentially big decisions.”
“You didn’t ask me when you wanted to buy the SUV. You came home and said, ‘Scott, we need to buy me an SUV. Let’s go.’”
Okay, so, he’s got me there. I was so sick of my car. We were carrying around too much crap thanks to having kids and I needed more room. One day, I was so fed up, I did just what he said. “Answer my question. I’m tired and I want to go back to sleep.”
“If that’s what you want to do, do it. I don’t know if you and Lizzy will be able to work together, but it’s worth a shot.”
“What do you mean?”
“You went three months without talking to her because of something that was completely up to her.”
“Oh, that’s totally different. We can easily work together.”
He shrugs and leans in to kiss me softly. “Get some sleep. I’ll take care of the girls this week until we’re sure you’re feeling better.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Unfortunately, I can’t fall asleep for the nausea. All I do is stare at the ceiling because lying on my back is the least-nauseous position. Scott sleeps peacefully. That’s good, I know, but it irks me for the simple fact that I want to be sleeping too. I’m exhausted. I’m pretty sure my bones are weary and my blood moves sluggishly through my body. Damn, I’ve never felt like this.
My mind wanders. I can’t wait to buy baby clothes once Lizzy finds out what she’s having. Too bad I eventually got rid of all the baby things from Stella and Stephanie. She could’ve had some of those items. It seems like it’s baby central around here with the Rebels. EJ has a baby girl, Ian and his wife, Sydney, will be welcoming a baby boy here soon, and now Lizzy’s pregnant.
I used to dream about having a big family. All I ever wanted was to be a mom. And then, all I wanted was to have one kid. I prayed over and over and over. Let me get pregnant, just once. Give me just one kid. That wasn’t ever happening. Not in the traditional route, at least. Since we adopted the girls, we haven’t talked about possibly expanding the family further by adopting another child. Things have felt perfect and fulfilling with our family of four.
Not to mention that for the longest time, I didn’t want to jinx the blessing we’d been given by asking for more. I still don’t. Bad things happen when you get greedy. Bad things happen when you take for granted something you thought would be possible that apparently isn’t possible in the slightest. It’s why I thank my lucky stars every single day for the life I have and the people who are in it.
“Momma?”
I sit up at the sound of Stella’s voice. “What is it?”
“I threw up.”
As she steps closer, there’s vomit all over her pajamas. Oh great. We’re both sick. I get out of bed to get her changed into a new pair of pajamas and find her sheets covered in puke. Once I get her changed, I put her in bed with Scott and clean her bed, hoping it doesn’t trigger me to puke myself.
“Momma?” Stephanie wakes up and looks a little greenish.
“Run to the bathroom, sweetie.”
I’m on her heels. At least she makes it to the toilet and I don’t have to clean anything up. I’m getting more and more tired. We finally make it to my bed. Stella is curled against Scott, who is none the wiser that our bed is about to be more crammed. Stephanie lies next to her sister and then I lie next to her. I knew investing in a big bed would be worth it. A quick glance at the clock shows it’s around four in the morning. Let’s just hope Scott doesn’t catch whatever we have. That’s the last thought I have as I finally drift to sleep.
With me way across the bed from Scott, all I get in the morning is a hand squeezing mine as he pulls my arm across the girls toward him so he can kiss the inside of my wrist. He has to have some sort of contact in the morning and with the girls between us, that’s the best he can do. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
“Now, why are there two little girls in my bed?”
“They woke up puking. We’re sick.”
He frowns. “My girls are sick?”
“You should probably get away while you can.”
“If I get sick, I get sick.” That’s always his response when the girls are sick. Damn, we really are predictable. “I’m going to run and stock up on soup, ginger ale, and crackers. Text me if you think of anything else we need.” He gets out of bed and makes quick work of getting ready so he can leave.
The girls wake up while he’s gone, moaning about a tummy ache. Looks like a lazy day in bed trying to keep our stomachs happy. I’m the only one who has to make use of the trashcan by the bed, though. The nausea comes on so sudden, it is all I can do to pick it up in time. The sooner we’re healthy, the better.
Fortunately for the girls, they recover within two days. Me? No such luck. Even worse, Scott’s first preseason game is looming closer and closer, and my anxiety is higher than ever. I’m not thinking about that or the fact that despite being sick as a dog and barely holding anything down, I’ve gained some weight. I don’t know how much because I’m scared to look, but my bra is too tight and my favorite pair of jeans barely buttoned today. They felt so tight, I decided it was a leggings kind of day. Unfortunately, I went out and bought new bras because I’m not dealing with that. I guess it’s time I start exercising again.
As if things couldn’t get any worse.
But again, I’m not thinking about any of that. Right now, I’m going to convince Lizzy to let me work with her.
“You look exhausted,” I comment as we take a seat at the table in Bagels and Butts.
“Morning sickness is the worst. Between that and doing cakes this past weekend, I am exhausted. I have even more to do this weekend. But none of that is a complaint. Marc ordered me to take it easy this week. He’s pushing me to quit with the bank now more than ever.”
“Are you going to?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I’m scared, to be honest. I don’t feel ready for any of this. I was just making a few cakes here and there and then it exploded. I’m having to say no because I’m limited to one to two nights a week and the weekend and those are already booked with clients until the end of October. I don’t understand how this happened.”
I lay my hand over hers, hoping to soothe her. “The how doesn’t matter. It’s what we’re going to do about it. Hear me out before you decide to get mad.”
“Oh, no. What did you do, Sylvia?” Her shoulders sag in defeat already. If she wasn’t so tired, she’d likely be mad instead.
I find the business card in my purse and slide it across the table. Her eyes widen.
“This is gorgeous, but I don’t understand.”
“I want to help you with the business side of things. I know about marketing and I can do some things with graphic design. I also have some business knowledge. What I don’t know, we can learn. I don’t even have to be in this long-term, if you don’t want me to be, but I’d love to help get you started.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“Yeah. I can even help with the cakes. I mean, obviously, I can’t decorate, but if you need a helping hand with baking the cakes, I can do that. Just give me your top secret recipes.” I waggle my eyebrows, causing her to laugh. This is probably the only way I can get my hands on her recipes, too. That’s definitely a bonus.
“I don’t have a way to pay you. At least, I don’t think so. I’d have to double check the numbers.”
I shrug. “I just want to help. That’ll be okay for now.”
“Okay. Tell me your ideas. I know you have them.” She sags further in her chair when I pull out the business plan I’ve been working on when I haven’t been puking. “I’m tired just looking at that thing.”
“Don’t worry. You don’t have to read it.” I tell her about everything I’ve been thinking about when it comes to what will be her business venture. She has the talent, the support, the drive and the name. She needs to pull it all together and get things going. I have big plans for my sister-in-law. I want her to succeed and live her dreams just as much as Scott and Marc do. If I can help her do that? You bet your ass I’m going to help.
After lunch, I have to do some grocery shopping, pick up a few things for the girls, pick them up from school, take Stella to the rink so she can get her fill of ice time, and then we’re back to the house where I’m cooking dinner while the girls do a worksheet for homework. Stella amazes me with her love of the ice and her dedication to learning how to skate and learning the skills necessary for playing hockey. She keeps this up, and she’ll be competing in college, easy. Maybe she could go even further and play in the Olympics.
The girls want to paint our toenails. I want to sleep, but I can totally let them paint my nails and supervise while they do each other’s. It’s always fun to watch them do this. They pick the same color for each other every single time and then argue over who gets to do it first until I tell them to take turns. When it comes to me, however, I get a different color for each foot and each hand.
The moment they go to bed is the moment I take a deep breath and fall into my own bed, not even bothering getting under the covers. Scott is out on some non-official team bonding crap; basically, their captain, Brayden Hayes, thought they could use some more time to hang out together. They’re probably out bowling or something. I’m sure Scott told me what they were doing, but for the life of me, I can’t remember. I just want to sleep anyway.
With a groan, I force my eyes to open. My shirt is being pushed up and a mouth is openly kissing its way across my stomach, heading north. I brace myself for the nausea to hit, but it’s not there for the moment.
“I love you,” Scott murmurs against my skin. His mouth moves to my breast and this time, I groan for an entirely different reason.
Damn, that feels so good.
He pulls away, his hands grasping both of my breasts. Even that feels good. I shake my head at the craziness of it. Man, will he just fuck me already? Why is he obsessed with my breasts tonight? Not that it doesn’t feel good, but he’s driving me crazy.
“Have you gained some weight?”
That snaps me out of my sexual fever. “Excuse me?”
His eyes widen as he realizes what he just asked me. “I mean—”
“You never ask a woman that! Especially not when you’re trying to have sex with her!” I shove him. “Get the hell away from me.” Honestly, I’m embarrassed that he’s noticed. I thought it was only a little bit, but maybe not. I yank my shirt in place and crawl beneath the covers.
“Sylvie—”
“There is nothing you can say to me right now that I want to hear, so please, shut up!” I curl into a ball, suddenly crying silently. When I feel his fingertips on my elbow, a new surge of fury comes. “So help me, if you touch me, I’ll kick you in the balls.” His fingers quickly disappear.
The tears continue to fall. I wish I could kick him out of our bed, but I’ve never done that. Never been pissed enough to do it. I wonder if he’d actually leave.
“Happy anniversary,” Scott mutters.
My eyes flick to the clock to see that it is the wee hours of the new day. What a way to start our tenth anniversary of marriage together. Unfortunately, that breaks me down more, and I start to sob.
“Oh, Sylvia.” Regardless of my threat, he pulls me in his arms. “I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. I do not want my number one girl crying. Please stop.” He turns me over to face him, but it’s hopeless. “Are you still feeling off?”
“Why?”
“Maybe you should go into the doctor for a full workup.”
“Oh, so I’m going crazy now? Maybe my husband shouldn’t point out that I’m getting fat on our ten-year anniversary! Ugh, get away from me.” I try to push him away, but the asshole is an athlete, he’s a man, and those things mean he’s stronger than me. If he doesn’t want to budge, he’s not going anywhere. That only pisses me off more. My knee comes up and his hand moves just in time to save his balls from my wrath.
“How can I get us back on track?”
“Why would you even mention something like that?”
“I was curious if you actually had or if I was imagining things. I’m an idiot. You know I don’t care about your weight as long as it’s a healthy one.” The first time he said that to me, I was a bit insulted. Only because he should love me no matter what, but then he added, “The healthier you are, the more likely you are to live a long life and I need you to live as long as I do.”
That melted away any negative feelings.
Scott’s hand moves under the covers to my knee and draws lazy circles. He doesn’t say anything. Just waits for me to tell him what we’re doing next. I’m so embarrassed that he noticed. Then again, he noticed because he grabbed my boobs, not because he looked at my waistline. Scott is a boob man, so maybe I should’ve known that he’d realize they were a little bigger and heavier.
He shouldn’t have said anything, but surely he’s learned his lesson and that’s no reason for me to miss out on the sex we were planning to have. On that thought, I scoot closer to him, hands on his chest, and kiss him. The only time Scott gets a free pass and can order me around is during sex. Still, he doesn’t do it too often or excessively.
Tonight, however, he’s bossy and I find I don’t mind one bit. This is the distraction I need from feeling bad, from the anxiety I’ve been feeling, and everything else going on right now. Let Scott take control. I’ll be better at the end because of it.
There’s a vase of red roses on my nightstand when I wake up. A note is sticking out amongst the petals. I don’t have to reach for it to know that it says only five words: I love you. Happy anniversary. That’s part of our anniversary tradition. I’d bet all the money in our bank account that Scott is in the kitchen making breakfast right now too. It’s Saturday, so the girls would be here, but I happen to know that Scott talked my parents into taking them today for a sleepover.
The aroma of his breakfast hits me all at once and I rush to the bathroom. Ugh. I’m so over this! Why can’t I get better already? I brush my hair and teeth and return to lie in bed. What I should do is tell Scott that while I appreciate his efforts, I don’t want any of his breakfast, but any minute now, he’ll walk in with a tray of food.
Speak of the devil...
“Good morning, beautiful.” He smiles as he walks around the bed. I eye the tray warily because I really don’t think my stomach can handle it. “Don’t worry; there’s only French toast and some fruit up here.”
Maybe that’s not so bad. Scott settles it over my lap. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back.” He gives me a quick kiss and is out of the room.
Gingerly, I test out a piece of French toast. So far, so good. My nose wrinkles as Scott reenters the room with his own tray. He’s having eggs and bacon to go along with his French toast. “Stay on the far end of the bed. I can eat for a change and I don’t want those eggs and bacon ruining it for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What do you have planned for us?” I only really know the next part of our day. After breakfast, we’ll exchange whatever gifts we bought for one another. Thank goodness I’ve had Scott’s hidden in the laundry room for a month now. I don’t think I would’ve made it shopping with how I’ve been feeling.
“Is there anything around the house you want me to do?”
I frown, my brows pulling together. “On our anniversary?”
“Yeah, Sylvie. You’ve been a bit high-strung and you’ve been sick lately. So, I’ll ask again. Is there anything you want me to do around the house?”
“No. I’m not going to make you work today.” Sweet that he offered, though.
“Then, we’re going on a day-long date. You up for it?”
“I’m always up for anything with you.”
A slow grin rises on his face. We need today. I don’t know what he has planned, but I bet it’ll be perfect and just what we need.